Chapter Text
The bald elf stood upon the large blade of a broad axe and stared down at the prone, large, one armed warrior in front of him. One of the warrior’s horns was broken and blood flowed from his nose and one of his ears. “I’m sorry that it came to this, Karaas.”
The Qunari glared up at the egg-headed elven mage as an eerie green light grew around them. “If you were sorry, Solas, you would not be doing this. If you were capable of any feeling, you would not be trying to destroy this world to bring back that of people who have been dead for thousands of years.” Karaas managed to push his one and only arm against the ground, but not matter what he did, his body would not obey his command to lift itself up against his former friend, turned deadly enemy. His heart wrenched as he heard screams in the distance. He had failed them; he had failed the people of Thedas and now millions would die so this megalomaniac elf could restore a long dead civilization and free the false gods of the ancient elves.
Neither combatant noticed the two men watching them. The men were almost opposites in appearance and personality. One was a tall human with sunken eyes and dark hair that was smattered with silver. There was a haggard look about him that suggested he had seen too much in his life. He gripped a large shield and an ornate long sword.
The other was a dwarf whose golden blonde hair was pulled back in a ponytail. His handsome face was accentuated by a scar that suggested his nose had been broken more than once. The lines that had begun to show on his face implied that he had chosen to laugh at life rather than let his past miseries consume him. He cradled a crossbow in his hands as if it were something precious.
Varric, the dwarf, turned to his companion. “Loghain, we have to help Karass.”
“No,” Loghain gripped the back of the collar of Varric’s armor. “It is too late. We would only get ourselves killed, too. There is nothing we can do. We need to find a way to survive.”
“I don’t want to live in the world he is creating, Scowly,” Varric countered. “I would rather go out as one of the heroes.”
Solas seemed to look in the two men’s direction. Varric didn’t think the elven mage with a god complex could see them, but he wasn’t sure. “No one can stop me now.”
“I would like to test that theory,” a dark haired woman appeared before him.
“Morrigan,” Solas lifted his chin. “Do you really believe that you can stand up to me?”
“You are determined to destroy all that I have ever loved, even my own mother was slaughtered by your hand,” She raised her staff. “You have much to answer for.” She shot a swirl of freezing air at him.
He easily deflected the Cone of Cold and sent a telekinetic blast out at her. Morrigan was lifted off her feet and hurled back. She rolled with the fall and came back up on her feet. Her body began to glimmer and she turned into a moderately sized high dragon.
“Wow,” Varric breathed from where he was watching.
Solas sent a full blizzard at her, and then hit her with another ice spell that began to coat her wings. Morrigan tried desperately to stay in the air, but was forced to the ground. Then she screamed as a sword was thrown at her. Varric was shocked to see that Loghain had rushed out and was fighting Morrigan. Sadly, he wasn’t shocked to discover that the man had betrayed his people. Solas had probably promised to destroy Orlais before Ferelden fell. Loghain’s priorities had always been screwed. As Morrigan crashed, she resumed her natural state. Solas turned into a large wolf and began stalking towards her growling. He launched himself at her neck, jaws wide and teeth ready to tear.
“No!” Varric ran out and let loose a bolt from Bianca as a strange noise filled the air.
A large blue box manifested between Solas and Morrigan. A light at the top was flashing and it said ‘Police Public Call Box’ on the front. The door opened and a couple stepped out. The man had dark hair and wore a black leather jacket. His companion was a pretty blonde who was dressed in the style of a Ferelden peasant. She pointed at Solas and said “No, bad wolf.” Solas was so startled that he stood where he was, only now becoming aware of the bolt in his side which urged him to turn back into his elven form.
The dark haired man picked up Morrigan and carried her into the box, the blonde following him. He looked at Solas. “We will discuss this later.” Then he looked over at Varric and said. “Run. Not with him, though,” he pointed at Loghain. “He works for senior psychopath here.”